All This Is
by ohloder
Summary: They connect on the surface and nowhere else. Naruto. Sasuke. Sakura. AU


_**All This Is**_

* * *

Summary: They connect on the surface and nowhere else. Naruto. Sasuke. Sakura. AU

IMPORTANT NOTE: Thank you and huge shout-out to Nyx159 who allowed me to adopt her story, _When The Sky Falls_ and turn it into this baby. This is Peter Pan inspired. Also do not own Naruto.

* * *

 _Sometimes at night, I leave my window open._

 _Then, I hear it._

 _Laughter. Voices._

 _The soft tinkling of bells._

* * *

Summer must be coming early this year. Through the dirty classroom window, she sees it. All that bloomed in the spring, shrivelling under the sunrays. There is that vague smell of withered grass and rippling heat. Exhaust, smoke… _fire._ Haruno Sakura fights the smile that tugs at her lips, and stares down into her lap where her hands rest, folded.

Her fingers are pale and long, her palms smooth. She has never known labour, has never needed to lift a finger in her life.

But sat in this chair, her arms and head feel awfully heavy. Her green eyes are dull, dry and ringed with shadows. Sleepless, somehow, but to her that would make no sense at all. Especially because lately, she's been having wonderful dreams. And you can't dream unless you're fast asleep, and she is more than certain she dreams the whole night. The dreams leave her more than sighing.

She sees mermaids, crystal blue waters and dancing. She sees a land hidden in the thick colourful flowers and trees. She sees herself drifting through the thick, through the clouds— sometimes, she _soars—_

"Sakura."

Her father's voice is clipped.

She tears away from her hands and meets his impatient gaze. "Yes?"

"Pay attention. Your teacher's asked you a question, twice now."

She looks to her teacher then. "Yes?"

"Your father mentioned you had trouble sleeping lately. We're just wondering if you've been having any trouble in school… I understand you've only recently moved here and you might be finding that adjusting to how the school— the _town_ really, may be difficult. We're very concerned. You always seem very distracted in class, and your grades are— slipping. It's worrying, you see. Your previous records show you've always been on top of things… Is there anything we can do, to help you in any way at all?"

"No."

"No?"

"No."

Her father and teacher share a look. Her father prompts, "You've been having nightmares."

"Oh, no," she says, sitting up. "Just dreams. Good dreams."

"And these dreams… distract you?" her teacher asks.

"I think about them a lot," Sakura concedes.

"Why don't you tell us about them?"

It isn't really a question, so Sakura shrugs awkwardly. "There's this place. It's called… the Land of Fire—"

"Which doesn't exist," her father cuts in with a disapproving curl of his lip.

"But, it does," Sakura tries. "It's beautiful. There are these mountains with faces on them. Tall trees and mermaids, and— I always see these two boys, about my age. One of them has blond hair and blue eyes. And— and he flies, dad—"

"Nonsense."

"But he does!" she insists. "And the other boy has dark hair, and— and red eyes—"

"Suppose he can fly too?" her father mocks. Sakura flinches this time, but tries again.

"No," her voice is quieter, patient. "It's just the blond boy. And I see them in my dreams all the time. We go on theseadventures there. The Land of Fire—"

Her teacher cuts in this time. "And you get to see them when you're asleep?"

"No," Sakura says, her brow furrowing. Suddenly, her memory fails her. It makes no sense. Her dreams were more than clear until she spoke of them aloud. "There's something— something about a star that would take you there."

Her memory is a distant one, suddenly.

But they've heard enough. They cut her off, and she shuts her mouth.

* * *

 _But then I open my eyes—_

 _It's all gone._

 _There is only a ringing silence._

* * *

Her father's grip on her arm is all but unrelenting until he shoves her towards the car. Sakura barely stops herself from stumbling. She hears the car door slam beside her and she cringes, because she knows she's going to get it now. He doesn't believe in nonsense. You don't speak nonsense to him, don't try to think it.

Sakura knows how it sounds. She hears it when she opens her mouth. She sounds stupid— crazy, to let a few dreams affect her so much. Dreams aren't real. They don't tend to be, and hers shouldn't be any different. Right? Why else would they disappear when sunrise peeks into her window?

She really shouldn't have said anything.

Even though sometimes, her dreams feel more than just that. Even though sometimes, she remembers the Land of Fire so vividly she can smell the air, taste it.

Her father's refuses to look at her through the journey.

"I'm sor—" she starts.

"Stop speaking nonsense."

His word is final. Scared, she nods and bites her tongue.

* * *

 _Dear diary, I think I'm going mad._

* * *

The dreams come anyway.

"Hey, Sakura-chan!" the blond boy says jovially, balancing on her bedpost. She stretches awake and her eyes dart to the open window, and then to the bedroom door. It's slightly ajar, but the lights are all off beyond her room. It offers her enough reassurance to slip out of the covers and into his waiting hand.

"Ready?"

He asks her this every night.

It's dark in her room but his eyes are bright and twinkling like fire. His hand is calloused, tanned and so, _so_ warm that she can easily swear he is real.

And dreaming or not, she thinks so already.

* * *

" _Don't leave."_

* * *

The daylight hours stretch into eternity. Outside, children are skipping and laughing with scabs on their knees, dirt under their fingernails. Sakura watches them with a wistful sort of jealousy. She only sits and reads and writes and sighs by her window, ever waiting for night. Summer reminds her of the Land of Fire, and reminds her that she isn't there. It's been two weeks. Her memory of those dreams are growing ever distant.

Maybe those dreams have run their course and have left her completely.

She slams her book shut and bites her lip. Two weeks. She would leave the window open, be warmly tucked in bed, and would sleep soundly. No dreams.

No colour, no vibrancy.

Nothing. It scares her.

Her father now takes her to a doctor, another to add onto the list of people who will never listen, never believe her. The doctor may entertain her more than her father does, but that is what doctors are paid to do. Sit and listen to stupid little girls who sound more than just a bit deluded. It's been two weeks now however and there is little to talk about now her dreams are gone.

"Have you had any dreams lately?" is always the first question asked. The doctor doesn't ever look up at her. Always scribbling onto a clipboard— Sakura wonders what's been said sometimes.

"No."

"No?"

"No."

"You seem unsettled," the doctor always notes.

Sakura would frown. "I hate it here. I want to go back."

"Home?"

"I suppose," Sakura would say, and she'd turn her gaze to the window. The sun is always high in the sky, and heat is always radiating and rippling over the drying, dying land. The Land of Fire is much greener. It flourishes under the sun, even the odd talking creatures she sees would bathe in it. The Land of Fire could be home. Home is where the heart is after all.

Her heart is beating in her chest, she feels it, hears it. But it feels torn and hollowed out, like it is saving itself for a purpose much larger than the need to keep her alive. Her heart beats, aches for a place in the stars. Dreams don't leave you this hurt. It is the only reassurance that they may just be real. It is the only thing left that keeps her from giving up.

It is mid-summer when her dad has enough. He never says it to her face, but mealtimes and all the other times they spend together— like when they'd pass each other in the hallway— become tense. Sakura would sit frozenly across him at dinner, noiselessly accept and drink the hot chocolate he offers her before bed, and would whisper goodnight just as the door shuts so he won't have to hear her.

She hates that he's given up on her like he's given up on mother.

One morning, she passes his office and overhears the worst.

"This has gotten out of hand, doctor. She doesn't go outside anymore. Sits by that bloody window and waits for time to pass. I've never seen any kid more excited to go to bed. She's waiting on those dreams, I swear it… Of course she's taking her medication, I put them in her drink myself. But dreamless sleep or not, she still believes in that nonsense. She's—… maybe you were right after all. This is beyond us. Alright. Fine. I'll make arrangements, pack her things when she's asleep. Alright, I'll take her to the ward tomorrow."

Stunned speechless and beyond horrified, Sakura runs. Her eyes blur with steadfast tears that turn the hallway to a winding and twisting path that nearly suffocates her. She crashes into her room and falls onto the floor, gasping for air. Her lungs hurt, her heart is clenching oh so tightly, and she wants to scream but people will hear. So she cries quietly and cradles her head between her knees. Her thoughts race for a way to escape what's to come tomorrow.

Later, her father comes to bid her goodnight. He pats her head in what seems to be his rendition of a resigned, affectionate goodbye.

She doesn't drink the hot chocolate he places at her bedside.

* * *

" _I will never give up."_

* * *

It rains that night. Sakura leaves her window open anyway.

Wide awake but desperate for sleep, she tries to fight the urge to down the drugged drink. There is no certainty that her dreams will come tonight to grant her one last happiness before tomorrow, but the drink won't offer her that either. She ends up pouring it out the window. The rest of the night is spent lying in bed, tossing and turning, tearing off the comforter and then wrapping it back around her. It becomes a little game of tiring herself out.

Her father tiptoes in once and throws her clothes and things into bags. He'd shut the window, and she'd wait until later to reopen them. She would shut her eyes and steady her breathing when she can't her erratic heartbeat, and she would wait until she is certain this boogeyman is gone. He never approaches her bedside, and for that she is grateful.

It is gone one in the morning when lightning flashes, casting bright light into her room. There is thunder roaring above the sound of wind. By the window, her bedroom floor is growing wet with rain. Her dreams are not coming tonight. Her heart beats even harder, and she finds it hard to swallow. She'll be sent away tomorrow. The least she could do for herself is dream.

Please, please, please.

It's two thirty seven in the morning. The dreams aren't coming.

"No, no, no—" she starts, and stumbles out of bed. Are the stars out tonight? She can't remember why but she needs them to shine. Something about a star—

Lightning flashes again as she approaches the window. She sees her own shadow cast onto the wall and— another one behind her. She almost screams, but a warm, calloused hand clasps over her mouth.

"Shh," says its owner. The voice is painfully familiar. "The man in this house is still awake. We can't let him hear us."

Sakura nods, excitement and trepidation warring in her. She doesn't remember falling asleep, but the blond boy is right there as she is awake. That doesn't make sense. He's a character in her dreams— and to dream you need to be fast asleep, otherwise maybe you really are insane—

No.

No, he feels real. He's right here. With her.

Again, there is another flash of lightning. She spins in his arms and meets the brightest blue eyes. The blond boy offers her a weak grin and, as her knees weaken with shock, holds her steady.

"Hi there," he whispers.

"You're real!" she rushes out.

"Well, of course I am," the boy says with a shrug.

"I mean," she says hastily. "I'm not— dreaming, am I? I've only ever seen you when I was—"

"Dreaming?" he finishes. He lets her go suddenly, and runs a hand through his hair. It's wet with rain, much like the rest of him. Sakura thinks he should be freezing with the wind blowing his way, but he seems undaunted. He starts to pace.

"I thought I was too, you know. Gama-chan was getting so pissed off with how I kept getting distracted. I told him what was up though, and he gave me this sage crap. Wasn't really listening. Had to find you though, 'cus you seemed so real. I thought I was going crazy. I've been tearing Fire apart just looking for you."

"How'd you find me— here?" Sakura asks softly.

"It doesn't matter, I found you, didn't I?" Naruto says. He tilts his head aside, scrunches his nose, and scratches the back of his head. The move is all sorts of endearing and she almost flushes. Sakura notices whisker-like marks stretching at the side of his cheeks and realizes she doesn't remember them for her dreams. Actually, she suddenly doesn't remember very much at all.

She doesn't even remember his name.

"How'd you get here?" she asks.

"The window," he says. "Knew it was yours because you always leave it open. I don't usually go tracking when it's all rainy, but— I don't know. I haven't seen any trace of you in Fire for almost two months now. Was worried," he stops. "Thanks for leading me here, Sakura-chan."

"That was really corny, deadlast," says a voice. The blond boy scowls, and looks to the window sill. Sakura hadn't realized that they weren't alone.

There are red eyes. Sakura tears her gaze quickly. They are more frightening than she— remembers?

"Can we go," she blurts. "Please?"

The blond boy laughs. "Alright, then. We'll do all the talking later. We've got time, anyway."

She nods hastily and extends her hand.

His hand covers hers without hesitation. "Ready?"

Sakura smiles, and what she says next only feels right.

"Let's go home."

* * *

A/N: Feedback is much appreciated.


End file.
